


Kindred Spirits

by the_parallax_of_rain



Series: And Yet Here We Are [1]
Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Flirting, Gen, Giving Nacho the screen time he deserves, Horseback Riding, Kinda fluff, Lalo is gentle with Nacho, Lalo loves his horses, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Slash, Trust, Unresolved Sexual Tension, paca paca paca paca en mi caballo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_parallax_of_rain/pseuds/the_parallax_of_rain
Summary: “So, Ignacio,” Lalo asks, a cheeky grin on his face that usually means Nacho is in for another unpredictable turn of events. “You ever learn how to ride a horse?”
Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga
Series: And Yet Here We Are [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738741
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Kindred Spirits

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my own love of horses and that brief scene of a pony on Lalo’s estate in the finale! Hope you enjoy :)

He leans against the fence that loops around Lalo’s home, watching the dark brown and white pony he had seen earlier continue its leisurely canter around the garden. The movement ruffles its long mane gently, and he can hear its faint neighs carried towards him by the evening breeze.

Almost a year ago, he had been kneeling on the asphalt, gazing in horror at Arturo’s death unfolding in front of him, Fring’s cold declaration of ownership ringing in his ears. And it was only a few weeks ago that he had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, pleading and fighting against the guys restraining him as he watched one of Fring’s men approach his father with a gun. They haven’t blatantly threatened him since, but Nacho knows that if he fails at executing any one of Fring’s wishes, it’s only a matter of time before he goes home and finds Papa dead.

And yet here he is, swept 500 miles away from the heat and anger of Albuquerque into the quiet and clean Mexican suburbs. Wearing the clothes and eating the food of somebody who by all indications would consider him a friend. Waiting to be released from Lalo’s grasp by an assassination that Lalo won’t see coming because he feels sheltered here and has a level of comfort with Nacho that he frankly doesn’t feel deserving of. It’s about six in the evening now, and Nacho finds himself suspended in a strange state of inaction, unsure if he wants the time to speed up or stop altogether. 

The stark realization of just how much shit he’s gotten himself into almost seems laughable. 

“Hey.” Lalo’s voice ripples through the calmness of his surroundings, and Nacho glances over his shoulder to see the man striding towards him. He has changed out of his black flowery “don’t-worry-I’ll-get-the-boss-nice-and-warmed-up-before-you-meet-him” shirt and back into the lavender grey button-down that he had worn earlier that morning when fixing his car. There’s a warmth in his usually discerning gaze and the way he rests a hand on Nacho’s shoulder makes Nacho increasingly restless, as he reminds himself that in eight hours and fifty minutes –

“So, Ignacio,” Lalo asks, a cheeky grin on his face that usually means Nacho is in for another unpredictable turn of events. “You ever learn how to ride a horse?” 

Nacho shakes his head apprehensively, with a sinking feeling that he just will not be left alone today. “No.” He doesn’t even think he’s ever seen a single horse in Albuquerque.

Lalo clicks his tongue in disapproval. “We’ll need to fix that, won’t we? Come.” Nacho resigns himself to following Lalo away from the yard and towards the outer wall they had entered through, wondering how the hell there could be a secret stable on the estate that he had missed.

They arrive in front of a small wooden building located near the perimeter of Lalo’s property that Nacho had previously overlooked as being a toolshed. Lalo unlatches the door and they both step through. The inside is dimly lit, save for a round window on the far wall, and the light filtering in falls upon the shed’s three occupants, who have all glanced up at the newcomers inquisitively. “This is my other family,” Lalo says proudly.

One by one, Lalo proceeds down the row of horses and introduces them to Nacho. The first stall is occupied by a black stallion named Cigarrillo (“Tuco originally got him as a present, and as you can tell my cousin was probably high when he named him, rather tastelessly if you ask me. But Tuco doesn’t have the temper or the skills to ride, so this fine lad ended up here! Too bad he won’t answer to any other name”); the second stall is home to a smaller grey horse named Octava (“She has the prettiest voice this side of the border, she’ll sing for you if she likes you!”); the third stall is empty (“All these guys have free reign of the property, but that little rascal you saw outside, Caesar, doesn’t get along with these three as much so we never try to put them in the same place at the same time. Marco and Leonel kept him for a while so, you know, he probably saw some scary shit there”). Finally, they arrive at the last stall, where a tall golden-brown horse with a white splash across its face bats its eyelashes almost expectantly. 

“This is Fortuna.” Lalo lays his hand almost reverently on the mare’s muzzle, and she neighs softly in response to his touch. _“_ She’s my favorite, but that’s just a secret between the two of us. _Muy bonita,_ no?”

_Fortune. Exactly what Nacho needs right now._

“Yeah,” Nacho replies, stepping in to get a better look at the mare. She gazes back up at him with clear brown eyes, and snorts suddenly.

 _“Fortuna, sé amable!”_ Lalo scolds her. “It’s Ignacio’s first time.” The mare swings her head away from Nacho, glancing back at her owner ruefully. A few moments later, she dips her head, as if she can sense that letting Nacho approach her will appease the man at her side. Seemingly assured that she will comply, Lalo beckons Nacho to come closer with a grin. “She won’t bite, come on.”

How this horse can understand Lalo better than he can, Nacho will never understand. “I don’t think she likes me.”

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that. I find that my horses like to think of themselves as good judges of character. But it’s mainly that she can sense that you’re tense right now.” Before Nacho knows it, Lalo has pulled him over to stand beside the mare. His hand is clasped around Nacho’s wrist and moving it towards Fortuna’s face. “Just let her smell you for a bit. And _relax_ , man!” Fortuna’s shockingly hot breath ghosts over Nacho’s hand, and he tries to let the stress and tension of the day’s events melt away. He has come this far, and this horseback riding business is just another obstacle for him to get past. 

* * *

“Alright, remember Nachito, you have to give her a kick to get her going,” Lalo calls out. He has retreated back to the fence where he is tying up a disgruntled Caesar, leaving Nacho alone in the center of the yard, seated atop a horse that he has no idea how to control.

“Are you sure it won’t hurt her?” Nacho finds himself protesting. Maybe Lalo doesn’t understand how far outside his comfort zone he is right now. After all, he had barely been able to squash his pride and ask Lalo for a saddle and bridle, because _of course_ Lalo rides bareback and assumes that any beginner should be able to do that as well. Hell, Nacho isn’t even wearing any protective gear for this, Lalo having rejected that avenue with a jaunty “You look good in that outfit, man, there’s no need to ruin that image with a helmet!”

At least he had been able to fake his way through Don Eladio’s impromptu interview. Here, far away from his world of concrete and sleek cars and cool facades, he is completely vulnerable.

“Nah, you won’t hurt her. They don’t take it personally. Make sure it’s a firm kick,” Lalo responds, his tone infuriatingly cheerful.

Against his better judgement, Nacho uses the heel of his boots to nudge Fortuna forward. She remains impassive, and the only indication that she has felt Nacho’s attempt is a quick swish of her tail against his ankle. He tries again, a little harder. With a grunt, the mare slowly creaks into action, lurching into a walk that feels like waves rolling underneath him. Nacho tries to keep his body straight but his stiff posture clashes horribly with Fortuna’s surging gait. 

_“Míralos!”_ Lalo exclaims. “Wonderful. Okay, now to guide her, you want to pull on the reins in the direction you want her to go in.” 

Nacho tugs the reins slightly to the right. The mare jerks her head off to the correct side but seems to disregard his command. _Okay, we can play this game if you want._ Nacho shortens the reins and tugs harder – she snorts defiantly as her head is turned forcibly and continues plodding resolutely forward. 

“She won’t listen,” Nacho says, fiercely clamping down on his rising frustration. She is, after all, an innocent animal. One coherent thought slips through: _shit, if I upset his favorite horse then I will upset the man himself and therefore I will be pretty much dead._

Lalo hops over the fence easily and begins making his way towards them. “Take it slowly, Ignacio. It’s all about maintaining a balance in control. Just as you don’t really trust her right now, she doesn’t trust you either.”

 _I don’t trust him._ Hector Salamanca’s growl cracks through the dry air in front of Papa’s store. Something inside him shudders at the memory. 

Fortuna comes to a halt as her owner appears at her side. Nacho feels Lalo’s hands grasp his own, adjusting his death grip on the reins, helping maneuver him correctly on the saddle. Lalo then ducks his head down and murmurs “ _Por qué no te comportas?”_ to the mare whom Nacho can only assume is feeling smug about herself. He ruffles her mane fondly and straightens back up.

Lalo is standing so close to him. Nacho finds himself blurting out, “She sure has an attitude.” 

“That she does,” Lalo smirks. “The secret to getting through that barrier is just communication, man. It’s why I go without the extra stuff.” He waves at the tack that Nacho had requested. “Kind of gets in the way, you know?”

“There’s no way I am riding without a saddle, Lalo,” Nacho reminds him sternly.

“Of course, of course. Just go with her rhythm. If you give her some room, she’ll come around.” Lalo takes a step back, his eyes sweeping across the both of them expectantly. Nacho notices the collar of his shirt is upturned on one side, and flaps slightly in the breeze. 

Tearing his gaze away from the other man, Nacho loosens his grip on the reins, which his hands have turned pale from clenching, and relinquishes control to the animal that has him at her mercy. “Let’s try this again, huh?” he proposes quietly to the mare, who responds with a bemused flick of her right ear.

There’s silence for a while, broken only by the muted clattering of metal against teeth as Fortuna chews on the bit in her mouth. Nacho holds his breath. His pulse thunders in his ears. It takes him some time to realize that he’s released the reins completely; they hang slackly off to the side of the mare’s neck and she has room to move her head again. She turns her head slightly as if considering her position, and Nacho doesn’t know why he feels like reassuring her. He awkwardly pats her mane. 

Fortuna swishes her tail and begins walking again. The saddle creaks as Nacho shifts his weight slightly forward to match her momentum. 

“That’s it!” Lalo claps his hands. Then, with a wicked smile, he adds, “I’d join you up there if I could, but I’ll let you have her to yourself for today”, a statement which Nacho decides is best to just disregard because, logically, there is no way this slender mare can hold both of them at the same time. Plus, the thought of having Lalo pressed up against his back, moustache tickling his ear as he regales him with soothing words of encouragement is just something he cannot afford to entertain right now, not the least because the heat of that image will stick with him for days. 

Nacho finds it oddly satisfying that after putting his faith and trust into this animal, she has done the same to him. As Fortuna meanders her way through the yard, Nacho can sense a restless tension in her muscles, as if she is aching for something more, something faster. He consents to her wishes with another heel nudge, and she breaks out into a bumpy trot. The swift change in pace and gait catches Nacho off guard, but he allows her steps to ripple through his body as he settles down for the ride.

There’s a small crowd gathering at the fence, as some of Lalo’s guards pause their wanderings to watch him and Fortuna, and if there’s some whispers and exchanges of money that go among the staff, Nacho doesn’t read into it too much. As they move together through the golden evening, weaving in and out of the sunlight trickling down through the canopy of leaves overhead, Nacho realizes that he suddenly feels sympathy for her, for this creature who seems to understand what it is like to be compelled by forces they are inevitably bound to yield to.

It’s the thought that they are kindred spirits, tied down by threats and charms alike, that shocks him from sinking deeper. He isn’t sure how much time has passed since he last checked his phone, and he can feel the cold dread rush back over him at the prospect of what choices he will have to make tonight. He leans over to stroke the mare’s neck and feels her heartbeat warm and strong against the palm of his hand. She is clueless about the thoughts and secrets her rider is harboring. So is Lalo, watching them from afar with something like contentment on his face. It would be so easy for Nacho to ignore Fring’s order, to pretend that nothing is wrong, that the call never happened and that he wants this.

He’ll have to make a decision soon, and after this evening’s events, beginning and ending with Lalo’s soft but firm grip guiding his hands, showing him how to surrender himself…for the first time Nacho wonders if there’s a way out besides constantly giving in.

**Author's Note:**

> It seems that I am permanently stuck writing Lacho fics within the post-Bad Choice Road, pre-assassination time period...
> 
> I really apologize if this ran into OOC territory, I tried to stay as true to their characters as I could :’) Also please let me know if I got anything wrong about horses or riding in general, I’m not an expert!
> 
> Edit: This is now Part 1 of a series I'm going to try to write...somehow :)


End file.
